


Takin' Care

by LeastExpected_Archivist



Series: Coming of Age [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, M/M, Multiple Partners, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-04
Updated: 2002-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:20:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25158388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeastExpected_Archivist/pseuds/LeastExpected_Archivist
Summary: By DiamondSam's birthday brings lonely wishes forward for himself and Pippin, both longing after something they can't have, they decide to explore 'safer' territory with each other . . .
Relationships: Sam Gamgee/Pippin Took
Series: Coming of Age [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1819885
Kudos: 3
Collections: Least Expected





	Takin' Care

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Amy Fortuna, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Least Expected](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Least_Expected), which has been offline since 2002. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Least Expected collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/leastexpected/profile).
> 
> Disclaimer: Oh I wish I could claim Sam, but all these characters are Tolkien's and I don't rightly know what he'd make of all this! I do it all for love, not money.
> 
> Feedback: Yes please--very new at this
> 
> Notes: I know there are probably already too many PWP with the hobbits (what? NEVER! -_* ), probably, but I've never seen Sam and Pippin together, and yet they have a definite link in that as the younger of each pairing they almost would have had to initiate things themselves to get past their "elder's" inhibitions. So they have a common goal, and yet they are such opposites in character. Thought I'd have fun with that. Year is 1413 S.R., Frodo is 45, Sam is 33, Merry is 31 and Pippin is 23.

Sam's coming of age birthday dinner was a grand affair--perhaps not grand when compared to dear old Bilbo's last bash before he disappeared, but it was certainly the largest party ever held in Sam's favor, he thought as he downed yet another glass of ale to yet another toast.

He was feeling very well indeed, well into his cups now as the evening drew on. He'd danced with Rosie (and managed to evade his mother's questions over just how long he would wait now before he asked for her hand in marriage), managed to out-wrestle Sancho Proudfoot (the lad might be eight years his junior, but gads was he strong!) and even avoided a practical joke planned for him by Merry and Pippin who had come to town to celebrate with him.

It had _almost_ been a perfect evening.

If only he could get a moment alone with Frodo.

Unfortunately, things were crowded at The Green Dragon, Sam's usual haunt--besides the ten or so friends of his at the party, there were also his parents, the Sandyman family, old Holman, and the entire Cotton family.

In all the chaos Frodo had kept mostly to himself, despite Merry and Pippin's best efforts to get him to relax and join in the fun. It was the dwarves, Sam knew--Frodo was growing restless, he was traveling the Shire and talking to parties of dwarves from the Blue Mountains about news from the outside world--perhaps news about Bilbo Sam was supposed to keep an eye on Frodo's doings--that was the agreement between Merry, Pippin, Fatty and him, but sometimes Frodo kept so close to himself, it was a real trial.

The same way he kept his emotions so close, never revealing if he felt anything special for Sam or if he was just being kind to a family friend and servant.

Sam watched Frodo conversing with the Gaffer, his dark curls framing a face the elves themselves must be envious of, bright blue eyes shining as he laughed at the Gaffer's jokes, showing off that tiny gap in his teeth that made Sam's stomach go all fluttery . . . such a small lithe body. What would it be like to meld his larger frame against Frodo's, feel Frodo's soft breath on the nape of his neck . . . .

His loins tightened and he tore his gaze away before he betrayed his inclinations for all to see. He was of age now--nothing to stop Mr. Frodo from doing anything he liked with him, but he daren't ask for it; even though Frodo showed little interest in the lasses, there was no sign he was into lads instead. So close, those Bagginses! Made him want to cry sometimes.

Pippin's voice at his ear gave him a start; he hadn't heard the little imp creep up on him. "Having a good time, Sam 'ole boy?" He was obviously into his cups as well; he wrapped a small arm around Sam's shoulder and swayed into him, fighting to keep his balance. The unexpected weight nearly toppled them both before Sam grabbed him about the waist and steadied him.

"Ho, there, Pip! Getting a mite friendly, there, I'd say!" Sam said with a laugh, hugging Pippin and making sure he was steady on his own two feet before breaking away. Was it his imagination, or had he felt a slight bulge in the young hobbit's trousers as they were pressed together? His had not fully diminished; he hoped Pip figured its cause was his dancing with Rosie earlier, and that he hadn't seen Sam staring longingly at Frodo.

Pip was staring at him, thoughts dancing in those wide-set eyes of his. It had to be the ale, it simply had to be, but Sam found himself looking at his face--really looking at him in a way he hadn't before, at the line of his jaw, his long straight nose, his thin lips curving up into a delicious smile.

Behind him he heard Frodo laugh. Sam bit his lip and turned, wondering if he dared go over there to speak to him with his father there and him in such a state . . . he needed someone tonight, he wanted to be with Frodo, but he couldn't risk asking--if Frodo didn't feel the same way, if he was horrified by Sam's desire, what would he do? Throw himself into the Water at Bywater, most likely.

"Frodo looks like he's having a good time," Pippin said in a quiet voice. It was not his usual carefree tone. Sam turned back and saw a pensive look cross his face. He looked . . . why he looked alone, Sam thought, and that certainly wasn't right, as alone as he himself felt tonight.

"Where's Merry?" Sam asked--why was Pippin here with him, and not his cousin--the two were inseparable, or so he'd always thought.

A black look crossed Pippin's face and Sam gulped. "Merry's busy with Fatty's sister. Outside." He tried to sit down at an empty table and missed the chair by an inch or two. He landed hard on his backside but Sam was there to help him up and set him down into the chair properly, gently holding him with one arm around his waist and the other across his shoulders.

Pippin's frame was as small and slender as Frodo's, Sam couldn't help noting as his arm left his waist and he took his own chair across from him. And that flash of emotion that had crossed his face a moment earlier--Sam knew that look. He knew that look every time Frodo hugged his cousins or smiled at a pretty lass. That was jealousy.

He wasn't quite sure what to say in response, so he just nodded. "Are you and Merry staying up at Bag End tonight?" Now that was a dumb question--where else would they be staying? He fumbled for something else to say. "Perhaps we could find you a nice lass to dance with . . . or something . . . " that did it; he flushed clean to his roots, thinking about exactly what kinds of things he'd like to be doing tonight.

"You're so lucky to be of age, Sam. I wish I were older. Then maybe everybody wouldn't treat me like a child. You don't think of me as a child, do you?" Pippin was pouting, but even so he was reaching across the table and taking Sam's hand in a manner more befitting a lass trying to seduce him than a young and supposedly innocent friend.

"No, I don't--the truth is I forget as often as not, and think you and Merry are the same age," Sam was truthful in that--what had he been thinking, trying to get Pippin bedded? He was ten years younger than Sam--old enough to have an idea about things, maybe, but not necessarily to experience them . . .

"Hah! I wish Merry would. Then maybe he'd choose me instead of those silly girls he uses all the time."

Sam gaped and the blood rushed back into his face. Had he heard right? Or was Pippin just very far gone tonight? "Maybe I should walk you home . . . " he muttered, wondering if he was up to the task, him having so many crazy ideas of his own this evening.

"Would you ever want me, Sam? I see you looking at Frodo all the time."

Sam choked and looked around wildly to see if anyone had heard--oh this was just dandy; if Pippin knew then Merry probably knew and next thing the whole Shire would know! And as for Pippin . . . what should he say? The truth was, Pippin was looking awful fine this evening, what with Frodo out of reach, but he didn't love Pippin, not like Mr. Frodo, and Pippin was supposed to be innocent, but then clearly he was not! "Does Merry know?" he managed to get out, trying to figure his answer.

"About me or you?"

"Both!" Sam's heart was pounding and he was beginning to sweat. Nobody was near enough to hear their conversation, but any minute now he was sure Fatty or Rose or one of her brothers might walk up to give him yet one more slap on the back and a "hearty good fellow there, hey?"

"Neither. He doesn't know about either of our wants. I haven't had the guts to say anything about me, and if he knew about you, I'm sure he would have teased you by now."

Too true. But Sam wasn't going to give him the fodder for that if he could help it. "I think I'd better walk you home, Master Pippin. Hang on just a minute; I'll go tell me da; then we can leave."

Pippin rose and leaned into him. "You'll take care of me?" His breath was warm against Sam's ear, and a delicious shiver ran through him. He tried to think pure thoughts and failed miserably.

"Yes, I'll take care of you, Pippin," he replied. Only question was, who was going to take care of him? If the imp kept this up, they would end up in bed together, and who knew what the morning would bring? It could all be another of his pranks, for all he knew.

Not trusting Pippin to behave himself if left alone, Sam dragged him along, steering him past those still dancing and trying to keep objects out of their way--funny how things seemed to leap right out at you when you'd had a few too many beers. There was Frodo now quietly sipping an ale, watching as the two of them approached . . . Sam had to remember to breathe, he felt so lightheaded, and his groin . . . well he was just getting more and more uncomfortable. Time to call it a night.

"Pippin here's had a few too many--Merry's busy so I'm going to make sure he gets home all right. I'm about through for the evening meself--thanks ever so much for the party, Da, Mr. Frodo, sir." He was blushing hotly as he spoke--he hoped it only looked like he was a bit drunk himself, which of course he was.

"You're walking him all the way back up to Bag End? You can sleep there, if you like, Sam--I've plenty of rooms." Frodo looked concerned at the state of both of them, but apparently he wasn't ready to retire himself--Rosie's two brothers had joined their circle and were in deep heated debate over what it meant that so many dwarves had been seen crossing the Shire lately--Sam knew Frodo would stay if only to hear if they had heard anything from the dwarves. Another twist of jealousy in his gut--lucky Cotton boys.

"Oh yes, he'll have to stay--won't hear of him having to walk all the way home once he gets there!" Pippin piped in and Sam got ready to pinch him in case he started blurting out anything untoward.

Frodo nodded, his eyes locked on Sam in a way that made his heart clench. "Yes, you really must. You look a bit done in yourself."

"It's settled then!" Pippin chimed, and Sam stammered what he hoped was a gracious thank you before steering the two of them off--any longer there and he was sure Pippin was going to give everything away.

They managed to say their goodbyes quickly to the rest of the party, then outside where it was cool and dark Sam breathed a sigh of relief--and then he spotted Merry.

It was doubtful Merry spotted either of them--he was half hidden in the bushes, and he had his hands rather--no, _very_ full with something--namely Estella's bosom. They were deep into kissing and he doubted very much that an Oliphant trumpeting past would have deterred them.

Too late he saw the anger in Pippin's eyes--fairly glowing green now, and deadly--before the younger hobbit cleared his throat quite loudly . . . and pushed him into the side of the tavern to press his body against him and claim his mouth in a fiery kiss.

The shock of the feel of him, pressed hard into his body (and _very_ hard indeed in a certain place) made Sam gasp aloud, and that only allowed Pippin to lash his tongue to explore inside. His knees went weak all of a sudden, as heat seemed to flow through him to center in his aching cock, swelling to full size until it strained at the ties of his trousers. Oh, this was better than anything he'd ever imagined, and neither of them even knew what they were doing!

As incredible as it all felt, however, he remembered they were standing at the doorway to the Green Dragon with Merry within sight--not to mention Fatty's sister. He tore himself away, which tore a low trembling moan from Pippin, and shook his head. "That's not the way to get Merry, Pip, and besides which, we don't want to be caught like this, no how. Come along home, there's a good lad." He was shaking himself with need, but he wasn't going to give in. Pip _was_ a good deal younger; he didn't necessarily know what he was doing, and anyhow it didn't seem right--really Merry _should_ be the one to be with him, if anyone was.

"Can we continue once we get there?" Pippin's voice was so full of need--not just physical, but emotional, that Sam hadn't the heart to say no.

"We'll have a talking when we get there. Come on, let's leave those two alone, Pip. You do have to be respect Merry's wishes in this, you know. It's hard, I know, but you can't make someone love you." Sam began walking, holding Pippin close around the shoulders. The road was steadier under his feet now--maybe that kiss had sobered him up a little.

"I love you, Sam, like a friend, you know. Maybe not the same way as I love Merry, but please, if you could stay with me tonight . . . I want to experience some things, maybe then I won't miss not having those experiences with Merry. Please?" Pippin was crying softly, and Sam's heart felt torn in two. He hurried to fetch a handkerchief from his pocket and offer it to Pippin. Pippin accepted it gratefully and leaned into his shoulder. Sam sighed at the feel of his slight frame fitting just about right against him, just about right . . .

"Come along home, everthing's going; to be just fine. I'm takin' care of you, Master Pip." Sam lead and Pippin followed meekly, past hobbit holes and gardens, pastures and stands of trees. To the outside eye they probably looked just like two hobbits too deep into their cups, weaving as they walked and holding onto each other for support.

On the inside they were both heartsick.

* * *


End file.
